


A Story Yet Unsaid

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Boys In Love, Dean is Not Heterosexual, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Graduation, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pictures, President Castiel, Rewriting History, Vice President Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 22:11:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5181548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What exactly is it we’re doing again?”</p><p>“Elementary, my dear Watson,” he says, scrolling through old pictures on his camera. “In order to create a legend, you have to give the legend a story—something that’ll have the whole district talking.”</p><p>Cas squints, partially because of the sun. “And that story is…?”</p><p>“How’s Lawrence’s first-ever openly gay high school sweethearts?”</p><p>Or the one where Dean is in way over his head and Castiel takes matters into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Story Yet Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> Before leaving high school, there was a picture-by-picture slideshow and a complimentary breakfast to commemorate the graduating class. That's what this was inspired by.
> 
> The title is inspired by a lyric from my theme song upon my own high school graduation, “The Ending" by Go Radio. Lots of rollercoaster memories with that band, I’ll tell ya.

“Wow, nearly ten years later and I’m still chasing cock.”

Dean doubles over in laughter. Illuminating the finger-smudged laptop screen is none other than his best friend, ten years their junior, tailing some of the biggest cock-a-doodle-doos Dean’s ever seen.

“You _do_ know you represent the student body, right?” Castiel gives him a non-committal shrug, still hunched over the 16 inch display. Dean falls back against his futon, catching his breath. “Dude, we’re _seniors._ ”

“I know.”

“No, I mean, how did that even happen?”

Cas closes his laptop and faces Dean, attention undivided. “I seem to remember a green-eyed hopeful running for Lawrence High treasurer,” he says, wearing a faint smile on his face as he folds his hands on the back of Dean’s broken-in laptop chair. Dean smiles back lazily.

“Yeah, and I only got three votes out of the whole school, Benny, Charlie—”

“And me.”

Dean huffs out a quiet laugh, “And you.”

“And I said—”

“‘At least you have the gay vote’,” he finishes, staring up at the ceiling. “You thought Benny was queer.”

Cas scoffs, “Please, you’re the one who thought Aaron Bass was hitting on you.”

“ _He was!”_ Dean cries, shooting up like Jack and the Beanstalk. “He won’t admit to it, but he was totally my gay thing for a few minutes.” Cas cocks his head to the side, grinning down at him with bright sapphire eyes.

“Enlighten me; was that before or after he pickpocketed you?”

Dean throws a stray pillow at him, instantly reminded of the times they used to engage in impromptu pillow fights that were usually scotched by their perpetual love for one another (which meant they _destroyed_ their respective shams and had to call truce). He wrestles with his weight on the bed. “What if it isn’t enough?”

“Dean, if you wanted the guy to touch your ass, you could’ve just asked.”

Dean smiles softly; then peers up at him with a somber countenance. “I’m serious,” he says, fiddling with his calloused fingers. So many late nights have formed those very blisters, homecoming, assemblies, _prom…_ “What if we’re not leaving as big a legacy behind as we thought? What if this’s all for nothing? What if—”

“Dean,” Cas says, manhandling his face with both his hands, forcing Dean to look at him. There’s been many a time when Dean’s fantasized about this very moment. He wishes he would’ve upgraded from a futon, though. “Do you remember first semester junior year?”

Dean smirks, licking his lips. He thinks he sees Cas track the movement but it could very well be his already overactive imagination running amuck. “‘Course I remember. I raised three-hundred bucks on that freaking car wash, and those shorts were popular with the mosquitos. Damn things bit me like a son of a bitch.”

“And?”

“…And Cassie Robinson,” Dean admits with a hum. Cas grins.

“See what I’m saying? You thought putting your skinny little ass out there wouldn’t amount to anything, but you made the school money _and_ got laid on the same day—not including the mosquitos, of course.”

Dean giggles. Cas blushes, rubs the back of his neck like the rest of his words are anchored there. Dean decides to help him out: “Let’s not forget who helped me get _out_ of those shorts before my big date.”

“You practically had to _bathe_ yourself in calamine lotion,” Cas laughs. “Your thighs were _raw.”_

“You wouldn’t believe how raw they were after Cassie. Talk about biters.” Cas shoves him back onto the bed. That’s when Dean is slapped by the biggest fish on the Eastern Coast. “That’s it.”

“That’s what?”

“I know what our legacy is gonna be,” he deadpans. “You still have that Nikon from Yearbook?”

***

“Why did I let you talk me into this?”

“Because you love me, huggy bear.”

Castiel is standing outside in near hundred-degree weather for who—why, none other than Dean Winchester, of course. Cas is starting to regret impregnating his mind with thoughts of encouragement if it meant he was going to be frying his goods in the middle of summer.

The only thing keeping him from killing a man—or woman, Castiel believes in equal opportunities for everyone—is the same one who dragged him out here, who is now in the same shorts he wore his junior year for some fundraising car wash. And damn, if he didn’t raise money toward a better cause… Dean was ripped, not to mention tanned from all those extracurricular activities that involved _all_ of him—

“Cas, you okay?” Dean’s rough voice stirs him from his reveries. “You look a little red.”

“‘Course I’m red you _asshole_ , it’s ten-thousand degrees out here!”

“Okay, alright, just one more second…”

Cas lays a hand on his hip. “What exactly is it we’re doing again?”

“Elementary, my dear Watson,” he says, scrolling through old pictures on his camera. “In order to create a legend, you have to give the legend a story—something that’ll have the whole district talking.”

Cas squints, partially because of the sun. “And that story is…?”

“How’s Lawrence’s first-ever openly gay high school sweethearts?”

Before Cas can protest, Dean’s holding out the camera at arm’s length and snapping away. Everything happens so fast, Cas hardly notices the pair of soft, sticky lips landing on his cheek. Dean pulls back all too quick for his liking, but the shit-eating grin complimenting his freckled face is enough to let it slide.

“What’re the shorts for then?” he says, mostly to distract himself.

Dean glances at him sidelong. “Authenticity, Young Jedi. Besides, who’s gonna help me get out of them?” Dean’s eyebrows wiggle like two worms in an apple and Cas is sure he’s a goner. “Damn it, I blinked.”

Dean holds out the camera again and leans in to plant another one on him, and just as he’s a hair’s breadth away, Cas turns his head and their lips are on like Donkey Kong.

He waits for Dean to jerk back, to spit in his mouth and call him an overeager son of a bitch, but no, he’s _reciprocating_. Cas initially wanted to shut him up but this is so much better. His hand wraps around his waist, holding on tight as the camera falls to Dean’s chest, hand tangling in his hair, and he slots his tongue against Cas’s, two rutting flesh working as one beating heart.

The noises he makes are deliciously swallowed by his own cacophony of moans. When he pulls back only to catch his breath, he opens his eyes to Dean chasing his lips.

“ _Cas_ …” He breaths his name like a broken prayer against his damp cheek.

“Dean?”

“Who’s… who’s gonna help me get out of these shorts?”

 _Yeah, definitely better than cocks_ , he thinks, racing Dean up the stairs to his bedroom.


End file.
